


Awakening

by MiaCooper



Series: Heaven in the Shape of Hell [3]
Category: Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Dubious Consent, Duplicity, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Impersonation, Maquis vs Starfleet, Mirror Universe, More tags to follow, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Voyager Mirror March
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-27 00:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18293087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaCooper/pseuds/MiaCooper
Summary: Impersonating the Captain Janeway of the Mirror Universe – the one who commands a brutal war fleet of captured Delta quadrant ships – is a hazardous exercise, even for a Kathryn Janeway who’s survived the Devore Imperium and the Terran Empire. Forced to contend with senseless violence, sexual sadism and the constant threat of betrayal, she’s worn down and desperate to escape her new life. But can she rely on her brand-new allies … especially the mirror version of Chakotay, whom she’s naturally inclined to trust, but who might have an agenda of his own?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven’t read[ Inception](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17953490) and [Liminal State](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18095651), or you need a quick refresher, here’s the story so far:
> 
> In this twisted version of canon, Kashyk forced Janeway to stay with him in exchange for letting _Voyager_ pass through Devore space. Two years later – two years as his reluctant concubine – he gives her a gift that turns out to be a trans-dimensional transporter, the pair of them end up on the ISS _Charon_ under command of Emperor Georgiou, and Janeway is forced to do some quick thinking with both brains to get them out of a very dangerous situation.
> 
> And just when they think they’ve escaped, it turns out that they’ve materialised in the right century, but in the wrong universe… on the ISS _Voyager_ , no less. Kathryn is forced to scheme and seduce her way to survival while her twisted mirror counterpart tries to weasel the secret of the limina out of her. And when the mirror universe’s Captain Janeway takes a liking to Kashyk, Kathryn’s only ally, Kathryn has only one person left to turn to, even if it breaks her heart.
> 
> \-------------------------------------------
> 
> This will be posted as a work in progress, but I wanted to get at least a little bit of it online for [@voyagermirrormarch](https://voyagermirrormarch.tumblr.com). Comments and kudos are the best way to inspire my unmotivated muse :)

* * *

“Captain, there’s a ship approaching at coordinates eight-one-six mark four-two. I don’t recognise the hull configuration.”  
  
Kathryn Janeway rises from her seat, standing in the centre of her bridge. “Helm, all stop. Hail them, Mr Kim. Standard greeting.”  
  
“No response, sir.”  
  
She has already drawn breath to give her next order when the _sir_ brings her up short. Swallowing, she regroups quickly, turning to the ops station.  
  
“Well, Ensign, what would a Starfleet lieutenant do in this situation?”  
  
“Fire a warning shot across their bow, Captain,” he replies immediately.  
  
Kathryn sighs in disappointment. “There you go again, Half-cocked Harry. Have you scanned their weapons complement yet? Shield capabilities? Any idea how many of their ships are in the vicinity?” She waits. “No? Then what makes you think that risking an all-out battle with an unknown species in unfamiliar space is a two-pip idea?”  
  
“But Captain, we have a fully-armed fleet –”  
  
“Don’t contradict me,” she snaps. “Hand your station to your replacement and get off my bridge.”  
  
He deflates. “Aye, sir.”  
  
Returning to her seat, Kathryn crosses her legs and curls her gloved fingers around the arms of her chair. “Let’s try that hail again, shall we?”  
  
Crewman Anderson, now at ops, shakes her head. “Still no response, Captain. Their shields are up and their weapons just came online.”  
  
Kathryn bites her lip involuntarily. _What now?_  
  
Chakotay leans over fractionally. “Now might be a good time for that warning shot,” he mutters.  
  
She glances at him and nods, then raises her voice. “Mr Baytart, initiate evasive manoeuvres. Mr Ayala, prepare to disable their forward weapons array. Half-power phaser pulse only – I don’t want them destroyed,” she pauses, adding, “yet.”  
  
“Aye, Captain,” they chorus, and a moment later Anderson reports, “They’re hailing.”  
  
Kathryn exhales in silent relief. “Open a channel.”  
  
A heavyset humanoid appears onscreen, his forehead furrowed in an inverted V. “ _Why have you fired on us?_ ” he demands.  
  
Kathryn cocks an eyebrow, drawling, “It got your attention, didn’t it?”  
  
He glowers at her. “ _Identify yourself._ ”  
  
She uncrosses her legs and stands, chin high. “I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Fed-, uh,” she swallows, “the Imperial starship _Voyager_ , and commander of the Delta Fleet. And you are?”  
  
“ _I am Consul Grek of the Ledosian Dynasty. By whose invitation have you entered our space?_ ”  
  
“We meant no offence, Consul. We’re simply passing through on our way home.”  
  
Behind her, Kathryn hears a swell of whispers, a shifting of feet. The back of her neck prickles. Chakotay stands and moves to her left shoulder.  
  
“You’re a captain in the Imperial Starfleet,” he murmurs. “Play the part.”  
  
She clears her throat, stepping forward and injecting ice into her voice as she addresses the Ledosian again. “In any case, Consul, I don’t need an invitation. Now move your little ship and let us pass, or I’ll shoot you out of the sky.”  
  
The consul blinks rapidly and glances to his left, apparently communicating with someone offscreen, then turns back to her.  
  
“ _On behalf of the Ledosian Dynasty_ ,” he grates out, “ _your fleet is welcome to pass our borders, Captain Janeway. Please allow us to escort you to our homeworld to meet with a trade delegation_.”  
  
“ _Thank_ you,” Kathryn responds, injecting sarcasm into her tone. “ _Voyager_ out.”  
  
She waits until the screen goes black, then turns to Chakotay, still standing beside her.  
  
“A trade delegation,” she repeats. “We should have Lieutenant Torres prepare a list of her requirements.”  
  
“It’s likely a trap, Captain,” he replies. “I recommend we approach the planet at full alert with all weapons at the ready.”  
  
She blinks at him. “Right,” she says, slowly, then, “Mr Baytart, advise the fleet to proceed to the Ledosian homeworld as soon as Consul Grek provides the coordinates. All vessels should remain at yellow alert until I order otherwise.”  
  
“Coordinates received, sir,” Baytart reports. “The Ledosian ship is moving off at three-quarters impulse. We should reach the specified destination in approximately twenty-six minutes.”  
  
“Acknowledged.” Kathryn turns to her first officer and lowers her voice. “Commander, I’d like to see you in my ready room.”  
  
He nods, following her across the bridge.  
  
As the door slides shut behind them she glimpses Ayala’s smug, knowing grin, and tries not to wonder what a summons to Captain Janeway’s ready room might usually involve for one of her officers.  


* * *

  
  
She goes immediately to the replicator – “coffee, black” – but is too agitated to drink; she shoves the mug onto her desk and paces, gesticulating wildly as she talks.  
  
“How have you all survived, conducting yourselves like this?” she demands, glaring at Chakotay. “Blundering through the quadrant with weapons powered, bullying your way into other species’ territory, shooting first and asking questions later … it’s a miracle you made it through your first few months out here!”  
  
Chakotay folds his arms and leans against the bulkhead, watching her. “We have backup. Or did you forget about the fleet of warships your counterpart commands?”  
  
“And that’s another thing!” Kathryn throws up her hands. “In my universe we’d never have allied with the Devore, let alone the Hirogen or the Kazon …” She cuts herself off. “Well, all right, we did try it, actually. But it didn’t work. We’d have had to compromise our principles and I wasn’t prepared to do that.” She slows to a halt in front of him. “This isn’t the way I’m used to doing things, Chakotay.”  
  
“Really?” he asks. “Maybe your memory’s faulty.”  
  
She frowns at him. “Excuse me?”  
  
Chakotay shrugs. “You’ve been Kashyk’s piece of ass for two years,” he says deliberately, holding her eyes. “Maybe your perspective gets skewed when you spend all your time on your back.”  
  
Her lips part in shock. Then, before she can check the impulse, Kathryn draws back her arm and punches him square in the jaw.  
  
His head jerks back, but when he straightens to look at her again he’s smiling. He touches two fingertips to his bleeding lower lip. “There’s the Kathryn Janeway I know.”  
  
Immediately she presses both hands to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears.  
  
“Chakotay,” she whispers. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Hey,” he says, touching her shoulder, “don’t apologise. I was trying to make you angry.”  
  
“Well, you succeeded,” she mumbles, voice muffled in her hands.  
  
“It’s hard for you, I know,” he says, his voice kind. He steers her toward him and she turns to rest her forehead against the front of his jacket, feeling his arms come around her. For long moments she lets him hold her, his warm hands covering her back, her face turned into his throat so she can breathe him in. It’s only when she shifts closer and feels his heartbeat kick up that she remembers herself and steps away.  
  
“I’ll get a dermal regenerator,” she mutters, gesturing at his split lip, but he shakes his head.  
  
“Leave it,” he advises. “Let the crew think you’ve disciplined me for some infraction. It can only help your image.”  
  
Her shoulders slump. “Chakotay, I’m not sure I can do this.”  
  
Chakotay reaches for her, closing his hands around her upper arms. “Look at me.”  
  
She does.  
  
“You _can_ do this,” he emphasises. “I believe in you. And I trust you.”  
  
“You hardly know me,” Kathryn feels honour-bound to point out.  
  
His eyebrows rise. “Is that the way you feel about me?”  
  
“I … no,” she admits, biting her lip. “I trust you too.”  
  
“Okay.” Chakotay smiles at her and lets go of her arms. “So, what’s our next move, Captain?”  


* * *

  
  
Kathryn sits at the captain’s desk and pulls the computer monitor toward her, tapping into the security files. “First things first,” she mutters, “let’s see what kind of records Tuvok has been keeping…”  
  
She starts scrolling through the internal surveillance logs and finds herself blushing furiously as she activates one marked with that morning’s stardate.  
  
“He recorded everything that happened in the briefing room,” she whispers, as the images begin to play on the small screen in vivid colour. She watches herself, stripped naked and raw, trapped between the brown bulk of Ayala and Paris’s pale form, her eyes closed, her mouth a rapturous ‘O’ as they fondle and fuck her. Her whole body prickles with heat and she slams her hand down on the _delete_ button, consigning the file to cyber-oblivion.  
  
Chakotay watches her, compassion written in his eyes.  
  
Kathryn drinks liberally from her coffee mug to hide her burning cheeks. “If nothing else, I’ll be putting an end to _that_ kind of thing while I’m in charge,” she mutters.  
  
Chakotay hesitates, then comes over to rest a hip against her desk. “Kathryn.”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“This isn’t your universe, and we’ll never be a Federation Starfleet crew.”  
  
“Meaning?” she glares up at him.  
  
“Remember your mission,” he says. “You’re not here to change us. You’re trying to stay alive.”  
  
He leans over to tap a few keys, and a long list of files appears; he plays the first one.  
  
Onscreen, a nude Ayala is shackled face-down to a mess hall table; Kathryn’s eyes go wide with shock as she recognises Samantha Wildman thrusting into him with a shining black dildo strapped to her hips.  
  
Chakotay skips to the next file; in it, Janeway sprawls in her command chair, jacket zipped up to her chin and spike-heeled boots on, naked from waist to knees; between her thighs crouches Tal Celes, licking enthusiastically at Janeway’s cunt.  
  
“Stop,” Kathryn pleads as Chakotay’s fingers move to press another key, “I’ve seen enough.”  
  
“But have I made my point?” he asks her. “If you want this crew to believe you’re Captain Janeway, this isn’t something you can change. At least not overnight.”  
  
Kathryn passes a shaking hand over her eyes. “Yes, Chakotay. You’ve made your point.”  
  
“Good,” he says. “Now, what are we going to do about Tuvok?”  


* * *

  
  
When she accesses the brig logs, she finds four cells occupied. Henley and Jor sit in resigned silence opposite one another, Seska paces angrily in an adjoining cube, and in the fourth, Tuvok stands ramrod-straight and expressionless in the centre of the floor, facing outward. An anxious-looking Baxter hovers at the guard station.  
  
“I’d forgotten about the Maquis,” Kathryn murmurs. “We should release them.”  
  
“Janeway wouldn’t,” Chakotay reminds her. “You could let Seska go – the captain would probably expect her to take care of the children – but Henley and Jor should stay.”  
  
Kathryn huffs a laugh.  
  
“Something funny?”  
  
“Not really,” she admits. “Just ironic. If we’d had Seska locked up in the brig in my universe, you’d rather die than let her roam free on _Voyager_.”  
  
“I’m guessing there’s a story there, and I’d like to hear it someday.”  
  
“No,” Kathryn mumbles, “you really wouldn’t. You might never look at your Seska the same way again.”  
  
“She’s not _my_ Seska,” Chakotay points out. “But I’ve known her for a long time, and she’s one of the few people on this ship I’d consider a friend.”  
  
“I’m in a universe where your two closest friends are _Seska_ and _Kashyk_ …” Kathryn presses her fingers to her temples. “This is giving me a worse headache than temporal mechanics.”  
  
A dimple appears in Chakotay’s cheek.  
  
Kathryn forces herself to re-focus on the silent Vulcan in the brig. “He’s going to be a problem for us,” she states. “The link goes both ways, you know, and he’s already suspicious of me. He won’t stop trying to probe my mind. I’m blocking him, but it’s difficult.”  
  
“I could kill him,” Chakotay offers.  
  
The casual note in his voice sends a chill along Kathryn’s spine. “Don’t joke about it.”  
  
“I wasn’t joking.” His dark eyes fix on hers, as remote as the first moment she saw him. “If it had been up to Tuvok, I’d have been dead within the first week of my alliance with Captain Janeway. She – and now, you – are the only reason I’m alive.”  
  
She straightens, unable to stop herself from shifting half a pace away from him. “Why _did_ she keep you alive?” she finds herself asking.  
  
“Because she needed the Maquis for labour, and she needed me to keep them in line. Without that there’d have been mutiny, and sooner or later, everyone on _Voyager_ would have died.”  
  
“Is that the only reason?”  
  
“What other reason –” he starts to ask – but he’s cut off by a thundering, percussive _boom_ as the ship shakes from weapons fire.  


* * *

  
  
“Report,” Kathryn clips out as she takes her seat. Chakotay sits too, quickly calling up a tactical report on their shared console.  
  
“Seven Ledosian vessels dropped out of high warp and began firing on us as we approached the coordinates Grek sent us,” Ayala replies. “Shields are down to eighty percent. The _Predator_ and _Hirogen One_ have moved to flank us and are drawing fire.”  
  
Kathryn flashes a questioning glance at Chakotay.  
  
“The _Predator_ is what she named the Devore warship,” he murmurs, indicating the red icons on their console that represent the fleet. “It’s under command of Lieutenant Prax this shift.”  
  
“Captain, I have the _Predator_ on a secure channel,” offers Crewman Anderson. “Prax is requesting instructions.”  
  
“Be a bitch,” Chakotay warns quietly.  
  
“That won’t be a problem,” Kathryn assures him. Standing, she raises her voice. “Put him onscreen, Crewman.”  
  
“ _Captain_ ,” Prax begins obsequiously, already setting her teeth on edge, “ _I apologise for not anticipating this cowardly attack. Did_ Voyager _suffer much damage?_ ”  
  
“Enough that I’ll be rethinking my faith in you, Lieutenant,” Kathryn grates back. “Perhaps I should return command of the _Predator_ to Inspector Kashyk.”  
  
Prax’s eyes widen. “P _lease, Captain, allow me to prove myself. I’ll smash these_ gaharay _into space dust –_ ”  
  
Kathryn waves a hand to silence him. “Enough. I’m not prepared to destroy these fools so close to their home planet without more information on their military capabilities.”  
  
“ _Then what should we –_ ”  
  
“If I’m not mistaken,” she glances down at the console, where Chakotay has discreetly called up the fleet’s armaments, “you have a full complement of quantum torpedoes and, I would hope, a tactical officer who isn’t completely incompetent. Those Ledosian vessels carry directed energy weapons with half the yield of Devore phasers. You could disable each ship with a single torpedo.”  
  
Prax’s brow furrows.  
  
“Do I have to spell it out for you, Mr Prax?” Kathryn growls impatiently. “Take out their weapons and warp drives so we can advance to their homeworld, at which time I will decide whether their planet is worth taking for my own, or simply destroying.”  


* * *

  
  
“Nice speech,” Chakotay whispers.  
  
“Thanks,” she mutters, sinking into her chair. Her heartrate slows now that the immediate battle is over, but she knows the real danger is yet to come.  
  
Prax has carried out her orders with alacrity and they’ve left the stranded Ledosian vanguard far behind. Another minute or two and they’ll arrive in the Ledos system.  
  
She expects to find the full force of the Ledosian military lying in wait for them; she expects, in fact, to be pitched into battle immediately. But as _Voyager_ slews into high orbit, still flanked by the _Predator_ and two Hirogen hunting vessels, they’re greeted by a pair of scout ships half the size of the fighters they’ve left crippled behind them.  
  
“Ayala, probe the planet,” she orders. “Scan for missiles, ships, any kind of defence system. Those few ships can’t be all they have.”  
  
Ayala is shaking his head. “All I’m detecting are a few phaser banks mounted on what look like military installations. They’ll barely dent _Voyager_ ’s shields.”  
  
“Captain,” Anderson pipes up as her console beeps, “there seems to be some kind of energy barrier obscuring one section of the southern continent.”  
  
Kathryn glances at Chakotay, who nods, turning the console so she can see it. “I’m picking up a tetryon signature,” he says, “but I can’t scan beyond the barrier.”  
  
“Is it a secret weapons facility?” Kathryn demands.  
  
“Unknown, Captain.” The ops officer’s voice is tense. “We’re receiving a hail from the planet’s surface, sir.”  
  
“On screen.”  
  
“ _I am Ambassador Ramad_ ,” announces a visibly rattled, dark-haired man. “ _Please allow me to welcome you to the Ledosian Dynasty_.”  
  
“That was some welcome, Ambassador,” Kathryn answers mildly. “I suppose you’re going to tell me your little fleet was really an honour guard.”  
  
“ _I apologise, Captain_.” The ambassador straightens his shoulders. “ _Visitors to Ledos are invariably hostile, and our military tends to be nervous of large armadas entering our territory_.”  
  
“Oh, I never said you shouldn’t be nervous,” Kathryn smiles at him. “But I am wondering what other surprises you might be hiding. Tell me about the forcefield.”  
  
“ _The forcefield?_ ”  
  
“Yes, the energy barrier obscuring a large section of your sourthernmost continent. What is it hiding?”  
  
The ambassador visibly relaxes. “ _Nothing sinister, I assure you, Captain. The Ventu live there. They’re a primitive society – our genetic ancestors – who live within the barrier in a kind of reservation_.”  
  
“Why do they live there?” Kathryn asks. “Have they chosen to withdraw from your society?”  
  
“ _Not at all. The barrier was erected by an alien race, several hundred years ago, to preserve the Ventu way of life._ ” The ambassador pauses. “ _We don’t understand the technology ourselves._ ”  
  
“Then you’ve never been inside?” She glances at Chakotay, smiling in anticipation of his anthropological interest, and finds him watching her, his eyes intense with warning.  
  
Her smile falters.  
  
“ _Never_ ,” the ambassador is saying. “ _And not for lack of trying. When I think of the natural resources going to waste inside that –_ ”  
  
But he’s cut off by the blast of phaser fire impacting with the building from which he’s transmitting. The ceiling caves in and the viewscreen fills with dust clouds before it blinks off.  
  
Kathryn finds herself on her feet, fists clenched at her sides. “Report,” she croaks out.  
  
“I destroyed the Ledosian communications centre, sir,” Ayala announces from the tactical station. “Body count is seventeen. Thirty-one injured.”  
  
She feels Chakotay’s hand on her left shoulder and shrugs him off, forcing herself to turn and face Ayala. “Why did you do that?”  
  
“He talked too much,” Ayala says simply. “And his story was bullshit. That barrier is powered by a tetryon reactor. Imagine the energy we could harness from –”  
  
“Mr Ayala,” Kathryn cuts him off, voice soft and deadly, “you took it upon yourself to fire weapons without my orders, and as a consequence, seventeen people are dead, and we’ve lost an opportunity to make an ally in this quadrant.”  
  
“An ally, sir?” Ayala’s brow crinkles, and again, Kathryn hears that murmur and shifting of feet around the bridge. “Last I checked, we don’t make allies. We take prisoners or we lay waste and move on.”  
  
“Enough,” Chakotay rumbles from Kathryn’s side.  
  
“What you do, Mr Ayala,” Kathryn grinds out, “is follow my orders. Since you seem to have a problem with that, you can join your predecessor in the brig.” She nods at two yellow-shouldered security officers. “Take him.”  


* * *

  
  
The remaining bridge crew stare at her silently after a sullen Ayala has been manhandled into the turbolift, and beside her, Chakotay shifts on his feet and dips his head to murmur, “May I speak to you in your ready room, Captain?”  
  
But Kathryn already knows what he’s going to say.  
  
Shaking him off, she swallows hard, locking eyes with each of them in turn. “The next person who takes it upon himself to act without my express order,” she enunciates, “will find himself a permanent guest of the brig. Is that clear?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” is mumbled in chorus around the bridge.  
  
“Good. Anderson, scan the planet and find me somebody to talk to. I want to know more about that energy barrier.”  
  
“Aye, sir.”  
  
“Janeway to sickbay.”  
  
“ _Doctor here_.”  
  
“Assemble a rescue team and report to transporter room one. You’ll be beaming down to the planet to offer aid to the injured.”  
  
“ _I beg your pardon, Captain? I thought you ordered me to waste medical resources on these aliens, but obviously my auditory subroutines are malfunctioning_.”  
  
“Get it done, Doctor,” she snaps. “Janeway out.”  
  
“Captain, I’ve located an active communications channel in a building that appears to be some kind of scientific research centre,” Anderson informs her. “There’s a Dr Barus on the line.”  
  
“Put him through to my ready room,” Kathryn orders her, already striding toward her office. “Commander, you have the bridge …” she hesitates on the threshold, “and I suggest you use the time to remind my crew of who’s in charge around here.”  
  
The door has barely shut behind her before she starts to shake. But there’s no time for that: the computer terminal gives a soft chime, reminding her that the Ledosian, Barus, is waiting to speak with her. Kathryn inhales slowly and seats herself behind the desk.  
  
“Dr Barus,” she greets the worried-looking alien.  
  
“ _I don’t understand_ ,” he blurts immediately. “ _Why did you fire on our people? We’re no match for you!_ ”  
  
“I see that, and I apologise. It was a terrible mistake,” Kathryn says, keeping her voice calm and even. “I’m sending teams to provide your people with medical assistance, and if there’s anything else I can do –”  
  
“ _I’m not an administrator_ ,” Barus cuts in. “ _I can’t make that kind of judgement. You took out half of our government officials with one strike … I’m just a scientist!_ ”  
  
He pushes a hand wildly through his hair, and Kathryn realises that she’s going to have to take the situation in hand. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she says firmly. “I’ll make arrangements with your remaining government for reparations and damage repair, but once rebuilding is complete, I’d like to speak with you about the energy barrier on your southern continent.”  
  
“ _Yes, yes, fine_ ,” Barus waves a hand and cuts the comlink, and Kathryn slumps in her chair.  
  
Her reprieve is interrupted by the chime of the ready room door.  
  
“Come,” she sighs, and is unsurprised when Chakotay enters.  
  
He strides directly up to her desk and rests a hip on the edge of it, staring down at her with folded arms.  
  
“Yes, Commander?” Kathryn growls.  
  
Chakotay’s eyebrows rise. “Didn’t take you long to get used to the big chair again, did it, _Captain_?” He doesn’t wait for her reply. “Problem is, you’re not acting like the captain they know and fear. You’ve relieved three senior bridge officers of duty in the space of a few hours – that’s not unheard of – but instead of scheduling some form of public discipline, you’ve confined two to the brig and one to quarters. And as for the Ledosians – the captain they know would already have levelled this planet into rubble, but you’re here chatting with a scientist and sending down rescue teams.”  
  
He leans into her space, and Kathryn has to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.  
  
“I’m trying to keep you alive,” Chakotay says clearly, “but you sure as hell don’t make it easy on me, Kathryn.”  
  
Despite herself, her lips twitch. “Some things never change.”  
  
“This is funny to you?”  
  
“Of course not.” Kathryn’s smile dissolves and she pushes up to her feet, creating some distance between them. “Chakotay, I can’t be _her_. I can’t fire on an alien civilisation without provocation, or publicly torture my crew for disobedience.”  
  
“Then we’re going to have to figure out another way to convince that crew that you are who you’re pretending to be,” he tells her flatly.  
  
Something about the set of his jaw makes her narrow her eyes. “I take it you have a suggestion.”  
  
“You’re not going to like it.”  
  
Sighing, Kathryn turns to the replicator and orders another black coffee. “Fire away.”  
  
“Those files you were looking at earlier?” Chakotay gestures to the desktop monitor. “You need to stage a performance. Like that.”  
  
An image of her counterpart, half-naked on the bridge, legs wide as Tal Celes crouched between them like a supplicant, flashes across Kathryn’s mind. “No.”  
  
“Then help me out, Kathryn,” Chakotay’s voice rises, “because I’m fresh out of ideas here. And we have to do something or you’ll be dead before morning.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean the moment you left the bridge, I had the Doctor on the comm demanding to know what’s gotten into you. He wants to scan you for brain anomalies, Kathryn. And if he does that, you know he’ll find the quantum variance in your DNA and the game will be up.”  
  
“The Doctor is suspicious of me?” Kathryn presses her lips together, then taps her combadge. “Janeway to Kash.”  
  
“ _Kash here_ ,” comes the immediate response. “ _Are we on a secure line?_ ”  
  
“Of course. Report?”  
  
“ _You sound like her_ ,” Kash mutters, then quickly continues: “ _She’s stashed safely in the morgue with a dampening field around her stasis chamber, but I don’t know how long she’ll stay hidden should we suffer any casualties. What’s our next step?_ ”  
  
Kathryn flicks a glance at Chakotay. “The commander claims the crew is already suspicious and is suggesting some kind of … public display … to allay their doubts about me.”  
  
There’s a pause. “ _I see_ ,” Kash says cautiously. “ _How do you feel about that?_ ”  
  
“How do you think I feel?” She closes her eyes, then opens them onto Chakotay’s. “You want me to have sex with members of my crew. In public. To hurt them. I’m not sure I can do that again.”  
  
“ _Then do it with me_ ,” says Kash.


	2. Chapter 2

_No_ , is all Chakotay can think as Kash’s words echo in the thickening air of the ready room. But he squashes the visceral reaction immediately. It’s the perfect solution, and he knows it.  
  
Kathryn is shaking her head. “I can’t do that to you, Kash.”  
  
“ _Yes, you can_ ,” Kash encourages her over the comm. “ _I can take it, Kathryn. I was an inspector in the Devore military – we’re trained to handle more pain than you can imagine_.”  
  
“I know,” she admits. “Kashyk likes me to watch him discipline his officers, and he’s not averse to –” She cuts herself off.  
  
“ _Disciplining you, too?_ ” Kash finishes for her.  
  
Chakotay can’t help hissing air through his teeth.  
  
“Speaking of Kashyk,” Kathryn cuts in, “I think we should bring him into the loop.”  
  
“You can’t be serious,” Chakotay says flatly.  
  
She levels a mild glare at him. “We need all the help we can get.”  
  
“Not from him,” he retorts. “We can’t trust him.”  
  
“I can handle Kashyk.”  
  
“Yeah,” he says. “Looks like you’ve done a great job of that so far.”  
  
On the other end of the comm, Kash clears his throat. “ _When you two are quite finished…_ ”  
  
“We’re finished,” Kathryn says, voice glacial. “Stay where you are for now, Kash. I’ll make sure Seska is released to care for the children. Janeway out.”  
  
She closes the channel and turns to Chakotay.  
  
“As for your other recommendation, Commander, I’ll take it under advisement. In the interim, I’d like you to take the bridge.”  
  
“Where are you going?” Chakotay demands.  
  
“To secure some help.” Kathryn stands, straightening her jacket, and brushes past him on her way to the door.  
  
“Kathryn,” he halts her with a hand on her arm. “Be careful.”  
  
Her eyes soften. “I will.”  


* * *

  
  
He stays on the bridge until Kyoto comes to relieve him for Beta shift. The moment he’s alone in the turbolift he taps his combadge.  
  
“Chakotay to Janeway.”  
  
“ _Go ahead, Commander._ ”  
  
“What’s your status?”  
  
“ _I’ve briefed Kashyk_ ,” she replies. “ _Come to his quarters as soon as you can, and bring Kash with you._ ”  
  
“Understood,” Chakotay mutters, and closes the link.  
  
The ‘lift opens on his deck and he makes for his quarters to collect Kash, but before he can reach his door, Torres rushes into his path and hustles him along the corridor and into an unused storage room.  
  
“Something wrong?” Chakotay asks her, eyebrows arched.  
  
“You tell me.” Torres locks the door and leans against it. “What’s going on with Janeway?”  
  
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”  
  
“Cut the crap, Chakotay.” Torres folds her arms. “She threatened to throw Seska and the others to the Kazon and never followed through. She sent Ayala to the brig rather than space him for pissing her off. And the way I hear it, she’s sending rescue teams down to Ledos instead of bombing the hell out of that planet. She’s a kitten, not a captain, Chakotay. So again I ask you: what the hell is going on?”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’m handling it.”  
  
“Oh, you’re handling it?” She stares at him. “Are you sure? Because I remember the last time you thought you had her handled, Chakotay, and that didn’t turn out so well for you. Or for any of the Maquis.”  
  
“Shut your mouth, Torres,” Chakotay growls. “You know that was down to Tuvok, and in case you haven’t noticed, he’s in the brig. I have it under control this time.”  
  
“I hope you’re right,” Torres mutters, “because we’ve been planning this too long for you to fuck it up now.”  
  
Quick as a striking snake, Chakotay slams a palm into her shoulder, pinning her against the door. “Remember who you’re talking to,” he snarls into her face.  
  
“Keep your head, Chakotay,” she snaps back, unimpressed. “I know exactly who I’m talking to. What I don’t understand is why Janeway’s gone soft.”  
  
“She hasn’t,” he says, releasing her abruptly. “She had me kill her duplicate, didn’t she?”  
  
“And that’s another thing,” Torres pounces. “She was fascinated by her mirror self. Why kill her, all of a sudden? And why not kill the other Kash – I mean, Kashyk?”  
  
“She’s taken a shine to him,” Chakotay shrugs. “You must have noticed he’s got a little more spine than Kash.”  
  
Torres snorts softly. “That’s not all he’s got.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Nothing,” she smirks.  
  
“B’Elanna…”  
  
She tosses her head. “What can I say? Janeway left me hanging this morning, and Kashyk was willing. No harm done.” She grins. “Nothing a dermal regenerator couldn’t fix, anyway.”  
  
Chakotay’s eyebrows arch. “You’re screwing the captain’s new plaything? Are you insane?”  
  
“Probably.” She licks her lips. “But it was worth it. That Devore knows how to fuck. I can see why she stayed with him. The other Janeway, I mean. Kathryn.”  
  
Chakotay glares at the floor, jaw clenched.  
  
“I guess that’s why Janeway had her killed,” Torres muses.  
  
“All the more reason for you to stay away from him,” Chakotay snaps at her. “Keep it in your pants, Torres. We have work to do.”  
  
“I could say the same to you,” she fires back, shifting to the side and yanking open the door. “So you’d better be sure you are _handling it_ , Commander. Or we’re all dead.”  


* * *

  
  
_I remember the last time you thought you had her handled_.  
  
Chakotay kicks the storage room door shut behind Torres and tips his head back against the bulkhead.  
  
_That didn’t turn out so well for you, or for any of the Maquis_.  
  
It wouldn’t sting so much if B’Elanna wasn’t right … at least, in part. He’d had grand ideas of taking Janeway’s command from the moment she’d manoeuvred him into serving under her, but his plans hadn’t turned out well for him or his former crew. Not back then, and certainly not now.  
  
But the most damning aspect of all was that any control he’d ever had was purely illusionary, and every rebellion he’d planned had come to nothing.  
  
Because, in truth, he’d given up any pretence of handling the situation long before he and the captain were stranded on the planet they’d named New Earth.  


* * *

  
  
_From the very beginning she had toyed with him. He couldn’t look at her without noticing her parted lips and cast-down lashes; couldn’t be in the same room without feeling her presence. She touched him constantly. She said his name, even his rank, in that husky, throaty voice that turned it into a caress._  
  
_But she’d taken Tom Paris to her bed that first night she’d captured Chakotay’s crew, and she didn’t seem to want anyone else – at least until after the warp ten flight. Chakotay had never asked her why she’d rejected Paris after that, but it didn’t matter; Paris took up with Seska soon afterward, and Janeway began to fuck whoever she fancied. She’d screwed ambassadors and ministers and prelates from almost every Delta quadrant race they encountered, and had worked her way through well over half their amassed allies, not to mention most of the_ Voyager _and_ Val Jean _crews, by the time they reached Sector 428._  
  
_But she wouldn’t sleep with him, and Chakotay couldn’t understand why. He’d sacrificed his ship to save hers and she’d thanked him by imprisoning his crew. He’d vowed to serve her, and she’d rewarded him by flirting with him mercilessly but keeping him forever at arm’s length. He’d quelled mutinies and rebellions, and she’d cut him out of command decisions, trusting her pet Vulcan over him._  
  
_He’d offered himself to her in any way she wanted him, and she’d turned him down._  
  
_Had he wanted bedmates he wouldn’t have lacked for them, but perversely, the less interest Janeway showed in him, the more he wanted her, and only her. He thought about imposing himself on her, but the idea left him cold. He didn’t want to force her. He wanted her to come to him of her own free will, because she desired him._  
  
_Because she felt something for him, as he did for her._  
  
_And, sometimes, he thought maybe she did feel something for him. As the months wore on she began to confide in him more, to seek him out, to open up to him. She touched him even more frequently, and sometimes when they were alone he’d glance up and catch her watching him, and he would think he saw something in her eyes before she looked away._  
  
_It was B’Elanna who made him face the truth. “You’re in love with her,” she said in typical blunt fashion, after Chakotay had led a search party for Tuvok’s missing shuttle, returning in triumph with the injured tactical officer. “You could have left that Vulcan to die. She’d never have been the wiser, and you’d have been rid of your biggest rival. You’re an idiot, Chakotay. She has you exactly where she wants you.”_  
  
_He’d shut her down, telling her he was playing the long game and her job was to keep the engines running and make alliances with the more disgruntled ‘fleeters. But he couldn’t deny the way his gut clenched at her words._  
  
_He needed to prove Torres wrong, so for the next six weeks he made seditious plans, and when_ Voyager _reached Sector 428 and the captain ordered a rare shore leave, he set them in play … only for his meticulously-devised mutiny to be brought down by a small, biting insect._  


* * *

  
  
By the time Chakotay makes it to his quarters to collect Kash, he finds the Devore pacing anxiously.  
  
“The children?” Kash asks him immediately.  
  
“Kathryn released Seska to care for them,” Chakotay assures him, and watches the other man’s shoulders relax a fraction. He notices Kash’s hair is rumpled, his skin still pale and eyes shadowed from his ordeal with the neural whip. “You okay?”  
  
Kash nods. “Let’s go.”  
  
Chakotay grasps his elbow as they stride through the ship’s corridors, arranging his expression in forbidding lines. The last thing they need is some overzealous Starfleet security officer challenging his authority, demanding to know where he’s taking the Devoran prisoner.  
  
He keys in the override code at the guest quarters on deck six and ushers Kash inside, only to almost run into the man’s back.  
  
“Kash, what the hell –”  
  
But Chakotay cuts himself off as he takes in the sight that’s stopped Kash dead in his tracks.  
  
Kashyk and Kathryn stand in the centre of the room, locked in an embrace; he has one arm clinched around her waist and the other hand is in her hair, his lips nuzzling her neck. Her palms press flat to his chest and her face, as they ease apart and turn toward Chakotay and Kash, is flushed, lips parted.  
  
She opens her eyes, pushing against Kashyk’s chest, but before she can speak, Kashyk releases her and strides toward the pair of them.  
  
“Are you insane?” he demands. “Whose idea was this? Did neither of you stop to consider that the only way this can possibly end is with all of us dead?”  
  
“Kashyk,” Kathryn remonstrates, rubbing tiredly at her forehead. “It was my idea.”  
  
He swings to stare at her, eyes narrowing. “I think you and I need to speak in private.”  
  
“No,” Chakotay growls. “We don’t have time for this. The crew already suspects something.”  
  
“It seems you’ve overestimated your talent for deception, my dear,” Kashyk says pointedly, “again.”  
  
Kathryn presses her lips together. “I’ve reconsidered your plan,” she addresses Chakotay. “I’m not prepared to fire on Ledos unless it’s absolutely necessary, and I won’t execute or torture crewmen for disobeying orders. So as much as I hate the idea of it, the only option I can think of is to do as you suggest.”  
  
She turns to Kash.  
  
“If you’re still willing, I accept your offer.”  
  
He nods. “I’m willing.”  
  
“What offer?” Kashyk demands. He moves up behind her, sliding a possessive hand up under her short jacket, fingers spreading over her ribs. “What are you talking about?”  
  
Kathryn ignores him, allowing the touch as though she’s used to it, used to being handled like property. Chakotay forces his eyes away from Kashyk’s roving hand and up to her face.  
  
“While I was in the ready room I spoke to a Ledosian scientist named Barus,” Kathryn says. “He may be knowledgeable about the energy barrier we detected on the planet. I want to know more about it.”  
  
Chakotay frowns. “Why?”  
  
“Scientific curiosity,” she shrugs. “Who knows what we could do with a tetryon reactor?”  
  
“Understood,” he replies. “I’ll have Barus beamed to the brig.”  
  
“The brig?” Kathryn shifts, and Kashyk’s other hand finds her hip, tugging her back against him, holding her still.  
  
Chakotay averts his eyes. “ _She_ ,” he says pointedly, “would never allow an alien to wander freely aboard _Voyager_. Particularly one she intended to question.”  
  
“All right,” Kathryn concedes. “That still leaves us one major problem. What should we do about Tuvok?”  


* * *

  
  
_For the first month after the Doctor brought them out of stasis,_ Voyager _had remained in orbit while the captain worked furiously from the planet, trying to find a cure for the virus. But after the third mutiny attempt, Chakotay had forced her to face the truth._  
  
_The crew wouldn’t accept the status quo. They wouldn’t continue to take orders from a pair of planetbound leaders and one loyal Vulcan, and soon their Kazon prisoners would defect and they’d be alone, defenceless, at the mercy of the Vidiians and any other species who wanted a piece of them._  
  
_So she’d ordered Tuvok to assume the captaincy, to carry on with the mission and leave the two of them behind._  
  
_The plasma storm struck two days after they lost contact with_ Voyager _, destroying all her equipment and leaving the captain desolate, shaking in his arms as they sheltered under a table in their wrecked cabin. It was the first time she’d shown him any vulnerability, and far from repulsing him as it should have, it twisted his heart into something tender. It made him completely hers._  
  
_From then on he made it a point to avoid her. How could he be near her, knowing the power she wielded over him so effortlessly? Knowing she would rather take her pleasure from her Kazon captives than go to him? Knowing that even now, when they were the last two people on their new earth, she didn’t want him?_  
  
_But then she ambushed him. Waited until he’d come back to the cabin late after a three day hunting trip and had fallen into an exhausted sleep, crept into his alcove and shaken him awake. He bolted upright to find her beside him, her hair halfway down her back, nightgown slipping from one shoulder, her face white and tense._  
  
_“Why are you hiding from me?” she demanded._  
  
_“I’m not hiding.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying desperately to wake up, and she grabbed at it, twining her fingers tightly into his._  
  
_“Look at me.”_  
  
_“Captain –”_  
  
_“I asked you to call me Kathryn.”_  
  
_She had. Weeks ago, after the plasma storm, when it had become clear that they were stranded forever. But he found it almost impossibly intimate, and the only way he could kid himself that he hadn’t fallen for her completely was by retaining at least some measure of distance._  
  
_“Chakotay,” she pleaded, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it, and her other hand came up to cup his face._  
  
_He found that he was covering her hand with his own, that his body was leaning toward hers. She let her fingers drift onto his bare chest. He was sure she could feel his heart thundering._  
  
_Then he was touching her face, her throat, her bare shoulder, and she was angling her chin, tipping her face up so that their lips could meet. His tongue stroked into her mouth and she was gasping he was groaning and her hands were in his hair and his were on her body, pushing their way beneath her nightgown and onto soft skin, and he urged her under him, feeling her thighs part in welcome._  
  
_He’d thought he’d seen her at her most vulnerable the night of that destructive plasma storm, but after he brought her to climax, after he came inside her, she pushed her face into the hollow of his neck and wrapped her arms around him so tightly he grew confused and eased back to look into her face. She was laughing, he realised, but her eyes were wet and her hands were shaking._  
  
_“Why now, when you would never sleep with me before?” he asked her._  
  
_“Because I wanted you too much, you idiot,” she said, exasperated. “Because I love you.”_  
  
_He kissed her for a long time before he could speak again, and then the first thing he said was “Kathryn,” softly, trying out her name aloud._  
  
_They had two perfect weeks together before_ Voyager _returned for them. Two weeks in which he fell deeper and harder, grew more certain of her feelings, and finally, was brave enough to confess his own._  
  
_They weren’t making love when Tuvok and Paris beamed down with the cure; they weren’t even touching. They were just planting tomatoes, working side by side in the dirt. He was teasing her and she was laughing, and it was blatantly obvious to anyone with eyes, let alone to a Vulcan with senses highly attuned to his captain, that they were on intimate terms._  
  
_In retrospect, Paris’ presence was probably the only thing that had saved Chakotay’s life; the Vulcan, upon seeing how close the pair of them were, might well have simply vaporised him on the spot. As it was, he allowed Paris to administer the cure and had them both beamed to Sickbay. Before Chakotay could protest, Tuvok deactivated the EMH, confined the newly reinstated first officer behind a forcefield, and initiated a mind meld with the captain._  
  
_A meld so deep, so complete, that it altered all memory of the events of the past few months, the relationship she and her first officer had developed on New Earth, and the feelings she’d confessed to have been harbouring for him since the day they’d met. A meld that had bonded the captain to her tactical officer in a union that was at once profane and seemingly unbreakable._  
  
_It took Chakotay far too long to accept the truth: that the Kathryn Janeway he’d known and loved was gone, and was likely never coming back. And it was all thanks to Tuvok._  


* * *

  
“Kill him,” says Chakotay. “It’s the only way.”  
  
“No.” Kathryn’s tone is flat. “I will not allow anyone to kill Tuvok.”  
  
“Trust me – you’d be doing us all a favour,” Chakotay insists. “He isn’t the Tuvok from your universe. You said it yourself – he’s sick. He’s obsessed with her. And he’s already inside your head.”  
  
“ _No_. You don’t harm him. And you make sure nobody else touches him, either.” She bats Kashyk’s hands away from her body and steps up to Chakotay. “Consider that an order, Commander.”  
  
He huffs an incredulous laugh. “You can’t be serious –”  
  
Before he can finish, the ship rocks savagely under a barrage of weapons fire.  
  
Kathryn clutches at Kashyk’s shoulder to steady herself and slaps her combadge. “Janeway to the bridge, report!”  
  
“ _Kyoto here, Captain. One of the Ledosian vessels from the advance fleet returned and attacked us_.”  
  
“Disable them,” Kathryn orders.  
  
“ _Their weapons systems have been disabled. Preparing to target their warp core –_ ”  
  
“Belay that,” she snaps hastily. “Beam their injured to Sickbay and the rest of them to the brig. I’m on my way to the bridge now.”  
  
“ _Understood_ ,” Kyoto responds after a pause.  
  
Kathryn closes the channel and meets Chakotay’s eyes.  
  
“You don’t need me to tell you that she would have destroyed that ship,” he says.  
  
“No,” she sighs, “I don’t.”  
  
“What are you going to do with Tuvok?”  
  
He watches her rub at her temple. “I don’t want him hurt,” she emphasises. “But he’s too dangerous. We have to disable him.”  
  
“Then leave it to me.”  
  
She watches him, eyes shadowed. “Chakotay …”  
  
“Trust me,” he says, steadily holding her gaze. “I’ll handle it.”  
  
Slowly, she nods. “All right. Thank you.”  
  
Kash comes close and touches her elbow. “We can’t put this off any longer,” he says quietly. “As soon as you’ve finished on the bridge, you and I need to stage our little show.”  
  
Her shoulders slump fractionally. “I know.”  
  
“Show?” Kashyk, who’s remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout their exchange, steps up again, shouldering his double out of the way. “What show?”  
  
Kathryn and Kash exchange glances.  
  
Chakotay shakes his head, hiding a grim smile. “I’ll be in the brig,” he informs them, and turns for the exit.  
  
“Somebody had better start talking,” he hears Kashyk demand as the door closes behind him.  


* * *

  
  
Every cell in the brig is occupied when Chakotay arrives, and the guards on duty look nervous.  
  
“Sir,” one of them says, snapping smartly to attention.  
  
“As you were.” He strides past with a cool nod, halting outside the last brig on the starboard side. “Computer, initiate privacy shield around cell theta-two.”  
  
Tuvok rises from the narrow bench and moves toward the forcefield. “Commander Chakotay.”  
  
“Tuvok.”  
  
“Where is Captain Janeway?”  
  
Chakotay cocks his head. “I don’t know what you mean, Tuvok. She’s on the bridge, of course.”  
  
“No,” replies the Vulcan, “she is not. The woman currently in command of this vessel is the impostor from the alternate dimension.” He steps closer. “I repeat: where is Captain Janeway?”  
  
Chakotay steps forward to meet him, feeling the static hum of the forcefield. “You’re right, of course,” he says, voice soft with menace. “But don’t worry – she’s safe and sound.”  
  
“Of that, I am certain,” Tuvok states implacably. “You would not have harmed her.”  
  
“If you’re so sure of that,” Chakotay folds his arms, “why are you so determined to get me out of the way?”  
  
Tuvok’s cold eyes find his. “You have never been good enough for her.”  
  
Chakotay stares, then lets loose an incredulous laugh. “You’re jealous,” he says wonderingly. “Some Vulcan you are.”  
  
Tuvok says nothing.  
  
Waving a hand, Chakotay continues, “Anyway, you’re in luck. For some reason Kathryn doesn’t want you dead. Which means I need to get you the hell out of my way without killing you.” He looks the Vulcan up and down. “I have one idea, but you’re not going to like it.”  
  
Tuvok inclines his head. “I am listening.”  
  
“All right,” says Chakotay. “But if we do this, we’re going to have to trust one another – and if you betray me, not even Kathryn will be able to stop me from slitting your throat.”  


* * *

  
  
He waits for Kathryn in her ready room, standing by the viewport with the cup of black coffee he’s sure she’s going to want and the sandwich he’s sure she’s going to say she doesn’t need. By the time she enters from the bridge, she’s already rubbing fiercely at her aching temples and her face is white with tension. She stops short on seeing him.  
  
“Tuvok?” she asks.  
  
“I’ve taken care of it. The Ledosians?”  
  
“Disarmed. Three are in Sickbay, four in the brig.”  
  
“I’ve had Dr Barus beamed to the brig as well.” Chakotay gestures toward the couch. “Sit down.”  
  
She climbs the steps warily. “What’s all this?”  
  
“The sustenance you’re going to need to get you through the next twelve hours,” he answers, handing her the coffee and sitting beside her.  
  
Kathryn sips, sighs and allows a small smile to flicker at the corners of her lips. “Thank you,” she says softly.  
  
“You’re welcome. Eat.”  
  
She glances at the sandwich with disinterest, but he pushes it toward her firmly.  
  
“I’m not taking no for an answer, Kathryn.”  
  
Instead of protesting further, she picks it up and takes a bite from one corner, chewing and swallowing with difficulty, then returns it to the plate and rests her head in her splayed fingers, elbow on her knee.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asks her.  
  
“My stomach’s in knots,” she admits.  
  
“Because of what you’re about to do?”  
  
She nods. “It was easier, somehow, when I didn’t see it coming. When I had no real choice in it.”  
  
Chakotay lays a hand lightly over hers. “Don’t kid yourself that you have a choice in it now,” he says. “In this universe, the only real choice we have is to survive or to die.”  
  
“That doesn’t make it any better.”  
  
“How can I make it easier for you?” he asks her.  
  
“Just,” she bites her lip, “be there when it’s over.”  
  
Chakotay squeezes her fingers gently and then releases them. Kathryn picks at the sandwich and stares out of the viewport at the planet below, her expression troubled.  
  
“Kathryn.”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“There’s something I need to tell you about Kashyk.” He hesitates, then says in a rush, “He’s sleeping with B’Elanna.”  
  
She blinks. “Oh.” Then, “That could be a problem.”  
  
Chakotay frowns. “That’s not exactly the way I thought you’d react.”  
  
“It complicates things,” Kathryn says slowly. “And it makes me wonder what he’s up to.”  
  
“You’re not upset?”  
  
“ _Kash to the ready room_.”  
  
Kathryn’s hands still. “Go ahead,” she manages.  
  
“ _It’s time_.”  
  
She raises her eyes to Chakotay’s, and impulsively he reaches out to lay his palm against her face. “You can do this,” he assures her. “It’s a performance. It doesn’t mean anything.”  
  
“Right,” she whispers. She turns her face into his hand for a moment, closing her eyes.  
  
Then she takes one long, deep breath, exhales, and stands, straightening her shoulders and hardening her expression.  
  
“Report to the briefing room, Commander,” she orders, “and bring what’s left of my senior staff with you. I’m in the mood for a little entertainment.”


End file.
